From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
"Remi..." Isla isn't sure what's wrong, only that something is - that something has been wrong from the moment they shared that first kiss in the outskirts. But in her selfishness and her own desire, she's put that to one side until now, until his refusal to let it end punctuates the air, until his head lolls against her. "I don't think even you conjure up another erection that quickly. Give it a minute?" A minute for Isla to check that she can still walk, that he hasn't broken any of her bones.
Still, though, she doesn't let him go, her fingers stroking down the length of his back, and she presses a bloody kiss against his bearded cheek, as if trying to draw him back into the present. "I'll use part of my shirt as a bandage for your neck," she suggests. "While I do and we sit down, you can tell me what's on your mind?"
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
Isla speaks his name, but it isn't the way she had moments ago. She isn't screaming it, nor are the syllables of it punctuated by the thrust of his hips or her nails in his back. It snaps him out of things by slow degrees. Her lips against his cheek feel so odd; like a hand against a windowpane that you don't feel when you place yours against it despite knowing what it feels like.
"Let it bleed." He replies with a rumble, blinking himself out of his daze enough to pull back to look at her. Isla's cheeks are bright and silver, her mouth red and her eyes painfully blue. Remi shouldn't want to kiss her again, now that everything has passed, and yet he leans forward to do just that. It's without violence or desperation as so many of their kisses had been so far, but it's no less sensual or broken.
Gently then he finally releases her, pulling her away from the wall to softly set her on her feet. Tugging himself back, blood-drained as he is, he'll still wait to make sure that Isla is alright before unceremoniously slumping down on the bed.
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
She draws back to look up at him, dazed and unsure what to do - at least until he leans in to kiss her. Isla melts against him, her hands drifting to press against his chest; they'll leave bloody prints when he moves away, but for now she barely notices. Let it bleed, he says, and whilst she can't think of anything less appropriate from a medical standpoint, as the alchemist's friend, she lets it go.
Wobbly, at first, when Remi sets her on her feet, she'll brace against him for a second to catch her balance. Nothing feels immediately wrong - in fact Isla is satisified in a way that she can't even begin to articulate - and so she allows the Lullaby to slouch away onto the bed. She gets the impression, however, that she is the only one whose body feels the heavy, warm weight of the very well fucked, and so she doesn't waste further words.
Instead, padding over to the bed after Remi, Isla silently sinks down onto it as well. She shifts not to drape herself across him - rather the opposite, in fact, the medic offering her arms as a place for the Lullaby to gather himself, to lay in darkness and silence for a while.
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
He does just that.
Pressing his head above her breasts and moving that they might both lay down, his fingers paint with his own blood smeared on her shoulder, drawing abstract shapes until the liquid becomes too tacky. There is no heartbeat for him to hear; Isla's body is shockingly silent whereas his breath is still rough. Letting his fingers trickle down her side, Remi turns his head against Isla's chest, watching the blood fingerprints line her pale skin in a slow march toward her hip. He wants to be between her thighs again. Wants her wrapped around him. Wants his mind spirited away by her. But instead he's here, on the bed, separated by skin and bones and the near-silent whirring of her non-existent heartbeat.
"I feel like I should have something to say, after that." He mumbles, her nipple a blushed-blur in his vision as he continues to stare at his hand on her hip. "But I'm not sure what." Already he can feel desire mounting again, though whether it's the room, Isla, his bruised heart or a combination of all three, he has no idea.
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Isla's arms close around him, the rest of their limbs tangling in ways that feels somehow comfortable and carefree, and she lolls back against the pillows and absently lets her fingers comb through his curls, teasing them away from the wound on his neck. "Mm, I don't think you need to say anything at all," she says, her disagreement a lazy thing, muffled agains the crown of his head where she presses a gentle kiss.
"Not everything needs words. Sometimes it's better without them," she says, shifting a little as, just like Remi, fresh desire threatens to kindle in her lower belly. Still working on his curls, her free hand walks gentle fingers down his spine, savouring the topography of his body, the way his muscles shift and move beneath his skin.
"I want you again," Isla mumbles. "But I feel like that might be pushing our luck."
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
The alchemist rumbles a note of disagreement against her skin. "I wish I could feel you again. Hear you again." But even that wasn't quite right. Because when she was a part of him, it was as a unicorn. Not as her. "Only those first few days..." But that thought too he lets trail off. She was herself those first few days, in a way. But she also wasn't. "I should have never thought I could save you." Remi decides at last, pushing himself up with one hand that he might turn his chin up toward her. His eyes are soft and sad, his boyish expression made all the more shocking thanks to the blood covering his neck and drying in his curls. "And I...should have killed you sooner." Lowering his head, he places a soft kiss where her heart once was, and where now a perfectly efficient mechanism had replaced it.
Only Remi could apologize for not killing someone soon, and have it sound genuine.
"Don't.." He whispers as feathers and mane snarl through his curls. Already heat has begun to flow into his belly, narrowing his focus and his will. Slipping from her breasts, Remi descends south once more, planting slow kiss after kiss down her kiss. "All I want is you." He mumbles, pressing a cheek into the patch of hair between her thighs. "Over, and over, and over." And gods but he means it. It's the closest he's felt to feeling alright, and, unsure as he is about what will happen with Ronin, it just might be the best he can expect from his life.
"Gods, Isla.." He hums against her, his tongue ever so softly melting beneath the folds of her lips again, slow and delicate, to taste the harmony of how they'd been together.
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Isla's lips part as if to say something, before she realises quite abruptly that she has nothing to say. Her time as part of Remi, as wonderful and involved as it was, is just as he has said. It wasn't really there, and these days it's something Isla remembers as an intuitive closeness, a fondness so intimate that it's a mockery to try and replicate it. And yet here they are anyway. So instead of trying to give voice to something impossible, Isla merely presses Remi close, stroking a hand through his curls and down the back of his neck where, quite suddenly, feathers and furs fight for dominance.
"Oh--!" It's as much of a response as she can provide as the Lullaby's kisses trail once again down the soft flesh of her belly and hips, and her thighs spread to welcome him all over again. "Remi..." It's a languid sigh of pure indulgence as his tongue presses against her, both too little and too much all at once.
03-01-2021, 09:05 PM (This post was last modified: 03-01-2021, 09:05 PM by Remi.)
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
But if there's nothing to say, then his tongue doesn't need to be called away. Like a man starving who licks the inside of his bowl knowing that it's already well empty, so Remi carefully makes sure to taste every bit of Isla he can reach. It isn't frenetic as it had been before. Not unlike a painter who has already laid the groundwork, now Remi can focus his attention on the details. Of coaxing shivers from her belly, of savouring her wetness, of discovering each and every possible way of making the breath she doesn't need catch in her throat.
He never wanted to leave this room. This bed. From this place between Isla's thighs. He wanted to have her over and over again, to fill the void inside of himself, to trick his mind into thinking things might be okay, and to satisfy a desire he never knew he possessed. Remi is by no means bi-sexual because of this encounter, but gods if he doesn't want to fuck Isla again.
Lapping at her with as unhurried a pace as ripples on a pond, Remi places a single finger inside of her. It's a laughable alternative to the erection stirring to life between his legs, but he's happy enough to tease her, his finger making slow come here motions. His other hand has migrated up her body, his palm dancing over one of her nipples before his fingers try to make their way into her mouth. There, he'll press his fingertips against her fangs that she might have something to do with her tongue he'll find equally as teasing.
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Given that this is the first sensation to trill through Isla in literally years, it's no surprise that the Ascended is somewhat overstimulated already by their lusty (and thorough) encounter. And yet as Remi bends to attend to the wetness between her thighs, Isla is heedless to refuse him. There's no urgency or trepidation this time, and her hips tilt up and one leg drapes bonelessly over his shoulders. With a low moan of encouragement, she skips in a breath to feel him slip a finger inside her, though no sooner do her lips part when they too are occupied.
Humming a note of gratification at this turn of events, her fangs prick into the pads of his fingertips, her tongue lavishing attention on them that she might well turn on his cock, if only he would bring himself close enough. But the alchemist is skilled enough with his hands that Isla supposes she can wait, her toes curling against sheets already smeared red with blood.
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
Had he enough hand, it would have been his between own thighs as well. But as it was he wouldn't stop his teasing of her with his finger, nor remove those in her mouth. Indeed, it's with a lusty groan against her flesh that Remi presses his fingers against her teeth and tongue. It had been years since she'd once taken him into her mouth, but gods if this wasn't bringing the memory back bright and clear.
"I need to be inside of you again," He whispers, almost as if it's an apology. But at this point, he can't help himself. Not with the scent of Isla's arousal filling his nose and mouth, not with the slippery wetness of her making his finger glide with impossible each in and out of her. Not with his cock twitching against the sheets and the needle-bright feeling of her fangs and all they can do coursing through him.
Moving up the length of her, the head of his cock pressed against her, Remi clenches his jaw hard enough for his teeth to whine. Open his eyes which burn with sudden intensity, he rolls to the side trying to bring her hips with him that she might find herself astride him.
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Remi is exquisite in his attentions, of that there is no doubt, and were it not for the fact that Isla knows his preferences, but knows even more that this is about something entirely other than sexuality, she'd swear he'd done this a thousand times. Moaning greedily around his fingers, Isla urges him on with hips and heels, and as he slides up the length of her body, she realises his intentions.
It's only the promise of more of him stops the mewl of protest from leaving her throat, Isla gasping instead to feel the hardness of him pressed against her. Already? her expression suggests, equal parts relieved and impressed, only for delighted surprise to wipe across her face as she's shifted astride the alchemist. The swift ease of their change in positions means that he's buried to the hilt inside her as soon as she finds herself upright, and the new angle drags a cry of pleasure out of the medic.
"Gods, you're so hard," she moans, her hips already shifting in slow, blunt movements intended to tease but also savour every inch of him. One hand splays against Remi's chest, the other moving to tend to her clit, Isla needing him all over again all at once.
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
As she lowers himself on top of him, Remi gasps as if he'd been drowning and was just given air, shifting to half sit-up. His hands are around her rib cage and waist, his forehead pressed between her breasts as he tenses and flinches beneath her. "Gods it feels so...so different." Different in this position; different with a woman. Different because it's Isla. It's all different. He hugs his arms around her, breathing in the smell and feel of her in this new arrangement, before letting himself flop back onto his back, slave to the wetness of her thighs and his place within them.
'Nn, it's..." Remi's eyes all but roll back into his head, words and concepts escaping his mind save for the roll of Isla's hips on him. "..it's you." He moans, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded as he tries to focus on her. '...i..." Remi tries, mouth dry and his hands very much needing more of her in them.
Reaching to brace against her thighs, Remi watches in sensory overload as Isla moves above him. There is little light to halo around her, and yet she's silhouetted ever so subtly just the same. The roll of her belly, the sway of her breasts, and the finger between her legs makes his mouth water and his lips part.
To say that he's turned on, or that he's never been so horny in his life would be a gross oversimplification. He was drugged. Drowning. Doomed, by this. This would kill him, if he let it. His spirit would burn away with the taste of Isla on his tongue and Ronin's heartbeat on his finger.
Just how long he'd be able to stand being so passive in this second-pass he wasn't sure. But for now the exquisite agony of yeilding power and control to Isla dazzled his mind and lit fires in every place made hollow by heartbreak.
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
"Different but still good, I should hope," Isla manages with a wicked and fanged smile that drops away as her lips part in a gasp, drawn out by the buck and sway of her own hips. Remi's hands are warm against her thighs, but it's nothing compared to the heat between her legs, to roll of her clit against her fingers or the drive of his cock deep inside her. "Nn... you don't have to..." Explain it? Justify it? None of it, as far as Isla's concerned, and it's a fight that she's swiftly losing to keep this slow and steady pace.
And eventually she snaps, as she always would, lurching forward to brace herself over Remi, her hips rolling forward as well to thrust against him more urgently. Her lips seek out his own, one of her hands fumbling for his to guide it up, cupping and squeezing at one of her breasts, teasing the nipple between his fingertips. "More," she mumbles into his mouth, feeling a ghost of that old fire starting to flare in the beginnings of a climax.
right now everything you want is wrong & right now all your dreams are waking up
He thinks he might claw through the bed, tear off the headboard, or be forced to embed his own talons deep into his own flesh to keep his mind from dissipating altogether. It isn't the distraction he needs, but the sudden pitch of Isla's body and her lips recklessly against his own is enough to stave off his own lurking orgasm. Kissing her hard, and too familiar now with the taste of her to know if it's her fluid in his mouth or his blood, he moans shakily as his fingers find one of her nipples. Gods how it takes everything not to make it just disappear into nothing between his fingertips.
And so reach for one of her hands, he places her fingers on his own nipple that she might do just that.
"You." He snarls against her, like some sorf of condemnation. It isn't though, but praise rubbed over the sandpaper of Remi's mental state sometimes sounds the same. 'I"ll give you more." He growls again, sitting himself up again that he might guide her hips off of him, only to turn her around.
On their knees now Remi enters her from behind, flooded with this new experience of her . There are mirrors behind the headboard—because of course there are—and it's toward one of these that Remi faces them. She is small before him, her body not even able to cover his at any point. One of his hands stretches down between her thighs, picking up the rhythm she'd left off while the other possessively snakes up her body to grasp one of her breasts. She is his in this, and if she thinks this will end with his name screamed from her lips again, Isla will find she's quite wrong.
Wrapping one of his wings around her and placing the top of it against her lips, where muscle fuses against the bone, Remi all but gags her with it (not that she needs to breathe), as his pace becomes relentless. "Only you.." He whispers against her neck where his teeth have turned jagged against her skin. "..I'll only ever fuck you like this."
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
